


Caged

by winterjune



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fucked Up, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan (Walking Dead) is an automatic warning, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Prisoner of War, Random & Short, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Short One Shot, The Walking Dead References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterjune/pseuds/winterjune
Summary: You and Negan have an interesting dynamic when you come down to bring him food.





	Caged

For your own safety, drop the food off and leave. Don’t talk to him, don’t look him in the eye, don’t interact with him at all. Off those directives alone, you would almost think the former leader of the Saviors was some sort of exotic beast, yet to be studied. But you could recall plenty of men like him. A true bravado. None of that shit he pushed was fake. Maybe there was a softer edge of him, but too much of him wasn’t false. That vulgar mouth, that self-satisfaction, that wolfish grin.

 

You couldn’t fake that. Not that well.

 

When you had received the tray, it had been a deck of half assedly washed greens, a slab of poorly cut meat, and half a bottle of water. Unacceptable. You had washed the green until they were clean and snagged a full bottle from your room. Not much could be done when it came to the meat. You move down the steps, glancing behind you to make sure you weren’t being followed before sounding out gently, “You up, wolf? Got greens and some butchered lamb here for you. I think they’re being pretty kind today.”

 

A low chuckle followed by an equally low, “Well, lucky  _fuckin'_ me.”

 

You come up to the cell he is being held in, unlatching the door open. The first time you had done that, he had genuinely grabbed hold of you trying to get away. But you both figured out that him trying to escape wasn’t exactly a point of logic. Once anyone nearby saw him free and roaming, he would be down in a second. At this point, you were perfectly comfortable opening it up for a moment to hand him the food. He takes the tray from you, resting back comfortably and looking you up and down in the shaded room with that grin, “You look good today. Real put together.”

 

“Got my shot something close to showers. Might even smell a little vanilla on me.” His hand shoots out before you have time to close the cell. He brings your wrist up to his nostrils. You can feel his salt and peppered beard brush gruffly against your flesh in that small moment. He inhales briefly and somehow looks more amused, “So that’s what that is. Shit.”

 

You take your wrist back gently, closing the cell and locking back up before crossing your arms, “Cleaned the greens up a bit. Think someone did something to a small chunk so I chucked that bit. Grabbed you a water from my room. Just make sure you drink it all or they’ll know I’m all soft on you.” His face straightens a bit in a genuine gratitude. He nods at you, looking down, “Appreciate it.”

 

“Need anything else, wolf?”

 

And the grin returns. He’d lately been loving that little nickname you’d given him. Something that pertained to the way people avoided where he was. Like some beast to be feared. A wolf, if it were not obvious to this point.

 

“I’d like something else,” He suggests, looking you up and down again, “But I don’t know what the policy is here on conjugal visits.”

 

Your lips upturn a bit, “Conjugal means marriage.”

 

“You think I needed a fucking priest to have all the wives I had?”

 

“I’m not your wife, wolf.”

 

“Come on, now.”

 

You shake your head, relenting your amusement. He would never say it outright, but the days when his solitude got the better of him, he relished to see you coming down to greet him. You had to space out your visits to avoid suspicion and couldn’t insist when you were relieved of your duties, but when you could organically make your way down here, he found your companionship to be a hole poked in a suffocating box. Even if it were only for a few minutes per visit.

 

“I can be down here for maybe two more minutes before they come and hound me about fraternizing with the enemy.”

 

He curves his head a bit, looking at you in a studying way, “I’m not your enemy. Enemies are a danger to you. I’d call you a friend, but I’d like to think you and I have a little more going on here, darlin.”

 

“I’ve got a guard up with the people who likes me,” You tease, sitting down on a nearby box, looking at him, “Wants to take me by the woods sometime. Teach me how to shoot. I was thinking about going. Some people are giving me the side eye coming down here as often as I do. Not too many but – ”

 

“If you’re looking for my approval, you ain’t fucking getting it.”

 

You bite back a grin.

 

“You think I need your approval? What’re you gonna do?”

 

He cuts you a look. You smirk, “You’re jealous.”

 

“That what you think?” he scoffs, shaking his head, “Because I gotta say – I’d rather be the guy you’re trying to make jealous than the guy you’re using to make someone jealous.”

 

You lick your bottom lip, watching him, “Touché, wolf.”

 

“I would clock the hell out of anyone else who called me that. You better know that.”

 

You stand up, walking up against the bars. He meets you at that divide between the two of you, and you’re reminded that this wolf dominates you in size and height. Your tongue runs along the top row of your teeth. Your faces are inches from each other as you turn your head a bit, reaching forward. The tips of your fingers gently brush the side of his beard.

 

“So, I have my own pet wolf then?”

 

 _“Watch it,”_ He affirms with a light growl to his already heavy voice, “I’m no one’s pet. You and I both know ya’ll are just getting that world ready for me. I won’t be in here forever, darlin’.”

 

You shrug, pulling your hand back gently, “I have to go.”

 

“You think I don’t know a fucking power play when I see it?”

 

You did like showing off that you wee allowed to leave whenever you wanted. You shrug with a smirk, drawing back, “Duties are calling. I can’t fuck around with you all day. Eat your dinner, wolf. I’ll probably be by tomorrow. Have to get the world ready for you and all…”

 

He watches your every step as you walk away, “So that’s all…?”

 

You stop short of the door, giving him a cursory glance over your shoulder before chuckling and throwing over your shoulder, “Goodnight, Negan.”

 

“You’re gonna be mine,” he promises with a smirk, “Just you wait, darlin’.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm behind on the new season so please don't shit on me if something doesn't sound right. This is just a short little drabble I threw together.


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